Impasse
by Emros
Summary: Commander Shepard and the Justicar Samara, who greatly respect each other, are forced into a battle of life and death. One is brought in for her ruthless determination to set the galaxy right, no matter the cost. The other is brought in for her strict code of black and white. -"It is a paradox for us to be alive in the same lifetime, Shepard."


Impasse

* * *

Rain wept over the darkened world of Lesuss. Lightning angrily struck the distant horizon. The hall blared white as Shepard ran, breath ragged and armor clanking, a pistol pulled close to her chest. A silhouette stood at the end. The shapely figure of an asari faced her, hands outstretched. Biotic energy danced around her fingers.

Shepard raised her gun, finger tight on the trigger but expertly restrained. "This fight is pointless, Samara!" she called out. Her voice echoed down the hall, bouncing off the tall empty walls, coiling with the ripping of the sky. "We need to focus on the Reapers- they're the real threat! And I'm the only one who can unite the galaxy against them! You know as well as I do, if I die here, the galaxy dies with me!"

The thunder rumbled with her last shout as if to agree. But the asari was unimpressed. She sauntered forward, elbows tucked, hips swaying calmly, smoothly like water.

"You cannot coax your way out of death, Shepard. Now matter how greatly you fear it."

Samara struck out with her hand, sending a pulse of blue energy. But Shepard was ready. With her free hand, she countered with a warp of her own. The two giants of energy clashed, grasping each other's shoulders as they strained to overcome the other.

"I'm not afraid of dying!" Shepard asserted. "I died once, I can do it again. What I'm afraid of is dying before the reapers are destroyed! We can tear each other apart _after _they're gone!"

The two blue goliaths devoured each other and vanished in a last feeble spark. The two woman stared each other down, panting slightly from the excursion.

"The code is clear," Samara finally said once she had collected herself. "You commit many wrongs to complete your missions, no matter how just. No matter how many lives you've spared, you have taken too many. No matter how much I may admire you for your efforts, they still conflict with the code. When shadowed by the wrong, the rights do not matter. And so I cannot allow you to leave this place alive."

"Every light casts a shadow," Shepard said quietly, raising her pistol as the asari took another step closer. She lined it up for a headshot. "Nobody's perfect. A pure solution just isn't possible. It wouldn't have saved us against the Collectors, and it won't save us against the Reapers."

Samara stopped, just a breath away, staring down the barrel of the gun with clear blue eyes. Sadness swam across the icy surface. "It is a paradox for us to be alive in the same lifetime, Shepard. To balance the galaxy, to decide which ideals are correct, one of us must die."

The gun in Shepard's hand shook every slightly, but she was quick to steady it. The asari tilted her head just a hair's width, but offered no other indication that she had noticed.

"I don't want to kill you, Samara."

Samara hesitated. She raised her head slightly higher, the contrasting lighting drawing out the dramatic angles of her jawbone.

"Then you will die."

* * *

Shepard pressed her back to the wall, trying to stifle her gasps of breath. Through the open entrance, an elongated shadow with twisted features lumbered across the floor. A scream tore the quiet from across the Sanctuary. The banshee in the hall answered, and with a blur of blue, shot towards its companion. Shepard released the breath she'd been trying to hold. Her radio beeped. She quickly answered.

"Liara. Reaper forces incoming on your position," she quickly warned.

"I know, they've just arrived," Liara said. Shouts of fire and screeches came from her end, slightly muffled through the static. "Don't worry about us, we're holding them off. It's you I'm worried about."

"I'm fine," Shepard said quietly. "But Samara's not. I just... I can't get through to her."

Liara hesitated. "Do what you must, Shepard. You always do."

The radio clicked off.

A new shadow passed the entrance, encased in the storm's light. This time it was of a healthy asari, and this time it grew larger as it neared. Shepard shot out a singularity just as Samara entered the balcony area, but it was quickly countered and eliminated with a biotic wave.

Shepard backed away to the balcony, preparing to jump. But what caught her eye stopped her dead in her tracks. A horde of banshees lurked in the shadows, black like water, blue synthetic eyes and stretched maws gleaming in the dark. Like hungry crocodiles, they waited for their pray to fall.

"You cannot run from this. No matter how much we both want to," Samara said, almost kindly.

Shepard grit her teeth. She wouldn't raise her gun again. "It doesn't have to end like this," she said slowly, placing weight on every word. "You know this isn't right."

"To save a life, you would sacrifice a dozen. You always make the right decision, but the path was always swathed in blood and violence. I take no pleasure in killing a friend..." Samara looked down, as if out of grief or respect, Shepard couldn't tell. "My only friend for longer than I can remember..." When she looked up, her eyes were hard with resolve. "But you force my hand, Shepard."

"This is bigger than us," Shepard argued desperately. "The fate of the entire galaxy resides on my mission! Think about it, Samara. If you kill me, billions will die. How is ending my life anything but gray?"

"I..." The thunder did not rumble. The banshees did not screech. Samara held her breath as a tiny realization crept along her skull. "The code mandates... I cannot let you go. But if I also cannot kill you... then there is no other way." She walked towards Shepard, who cautiously circled around. They half danced around each other until their positions had flipped.

"There is," Shepard said, trying one last time. "Fight with me. The galaxy needs you, Samara. _I_ need you."

Samara smiled, her eyes softening, her shoulders slacking, as if a great weight had been dropped, as if that was exactly what she had needed to hear. "I am sorry, Shepard. But it does not. The galaxy can only have one thing. Either my world of black and white, or your collision of gray. And it has chosen you."

Before Shepard could twitch, Samara raised her arms and let her head fall back. Shepard ran to the balcony's edge as she fell over it, serene and collected as though a swan mid dive, into the reaching banshees below.

An outburst of biotic energy ripped through the horde, tearing them apart limb from limp, extending its great hands to press against the roof, the walls, the ceiling, and consume all within its clutches. Shepard fell back, arms raised, blinded by the brilliant white light. She stumbled, and when it cleared, her eyes were drowned in darkness.

"Samara!" she called out to the empty room, rushing to the railing and peering over its edge.

Nothing.

The radio beeped. Shepard tore herself away and pressed it, her concerns ping ponging to a new source.

"Shepard," the radio said, sounding relieved that she had answered, yet still laced with concern. "We heard the explosion. Are you hurt?"

"No, Garrus," Shepard answered, shutting her eyes. "Not really."

The line was quiet for awhile. Solemn. Understanding. "We'll meet you at the sanctuary's entrance."

The radio cut out.

Shepard set her armored gloved against the elegantly curved railing. She stared over the edge.

Still nothing.

Nothing but a faint whisper of a biotic field.

"Not really..." she echoed. And pulled away.

Outside, her team was waiting for her. The did not say anything or ask what had happened. They merely followed her to the shuttle. Shepard looked back at the silent sanctuary. The storm had calmed. The sky was gray.


End file.
